


the hazards of wayward muffins

by olavidalo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Dubious Consent, Love Potions?, M/M, Unresolved Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:03:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olavidalo/pseuds/olavidalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't eat muffins thrown on-stage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the hazards of wayward muffins

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely all lies; unbeta'ed, unbritpicked lies.

The only reason Harry doesn't eat the entire muffin is because when he's almost halfway through, Zayn tugs the rest away and shoves it in his mouth.  
  
'Ca'm t'ek y' ang'where,' Zayn says stonily, cheeks pushed out. Liam keeps his hands to himself only through great force of will, then thinks, ah, whatever, and puts his arm around Zayn’s shoulder anyway.  
  
'Bet you're glad you ate it, though,' Harry says, smug, and smiles serenely at Louis when Niall adds another entry to his list of _Dangerous Things Harry/Louis Have Eaten_. _Dangerous Things Zayn/Liam Have Eaten_ is comparatively short, as well it should be: they’re supposed to be the sensible ones of the group.  
  
Anyway, neither of them are sick or dead in the morning, so Liam doesn't tell Paul anything.

 

* * *

 

It's the next day when things start getting weird.

 

* * *

 

Liam wakes up 30 minutes before his alarm and drags himself out of bed.  
  
He reminds himself he'll appreciate the alone time once it's noon and Zayn's in a snit over something and Niall's crashing hard and Harry and Louis are at each other's throats. Still, he wastes about five minutes staring at himself blankly in the bathroom mirror before he really gets moving.  
  
Sometimes...sometimes he doesn't quite recognise himself.  
  
And sometimes, he thinks, quickly splashing his face with cold water, sometimes he's just out of it.  
  
So he picks out his clothes; he does 100 pushups and 200 situps and then 100 more pushups; he takes a shower, shaves, gets dressed, brushes his teeth, flosses once, puts his alarm on snooze and flosses again. It's around this time that he realises that his gums are going to start bleeding if he keeps waiting for Zayn to get up.  
  
'Zayn,' he says, standing in the bathroom doorway. Zayn doesn't so much as twitch. 'Zayn,' he repeats, a little louder, coming closer to the bed. 'Come on, babe, it's time to get up.' Usually this is when Zayn starts mumbling token protests. Or cursing unintelligibly, if he's particularly hungover. This morning he does neither, and instead just lays silently in place. Liam shakes him gently. His eyelids flutter but he remains firmly asleep.  
  
'Zayn,' Liam says, a little concerned now. 'Come on, Paul's gonna be at me for letting you sleep in again.'  
   
'--Harry?' Zayn asks, sluggishly, only just lifting his lids. He sees Liam, groans, and twists away with a weak sigh. Huh. Liam flicks the light on - Zayn flinches - and looks at him properly.  
  
He looks _exhausted_. Par for the course, really, what with their schedule, but he looks particularly wiped. And they hadn't even snuck out or anything last night.  
  
Harry's standing out in the hallway alone when Liam finally gets Zayn up and out, scrolling through his phone with a small frown. Zayn pushes Liam off, stomps up to Harry -- and then very gently tilts into his side for a long hug. It looks like he's _smelling_ him.  
  
Huh. That's a very -- Louis thing to do.  
  
Harry quirks his eyebrow at Liam over Zayn's shoulder. 'He's a bit out of it,' Liam explains, tentatively, 'wouldn't get up no matter what I did. Kept asking for you,' he adds, a bit hurt. Usually Zayn cuddles with _him_ when he's feeling down.  
  
'I'm fine,' Zayn muffles, okay, sure, like he doesn't say that even after sitting on Twitter for an hour and reading hundreds of at-replies. But then he steps back from Harry, towards Liam, and he really does look fine, clear-eyed and grinning, almost as though he just took an hour long nap.  
  
'Were you worried over me, Leemo?' he grins, and wraps his arms around Liam's middle.  
  
'Well,' Liam says, smiling helplessly, 'yes. A little.' He tries to be stern. 'If you're coming down with something we'll need to tell Paul.'  
  
'Ah, Liam,' Zayn sighs, 'always lookin' after me,' and then he kisses him on the back of his neck. Liam squirms away, embarrassed, glancing up to see if Harry's noticed anything amiss.  
  
Harry's still watching Zayn, eyes intent and confused, like he's got something on the tip of his tongue. Liam's about to say something — but then Louis barrels down the hallway at top-speed, Niall whisper-screaming after him, and he forgets about it all.

 

* * *

   
(Sort of.  
  
Zayn sits next to Harry at lunch and laughs at every one of his jokes, even the really weird ones involving Grimmy that make Niall cough into his fist and go red. Liam hardly would've noticed, except then _he_ tells a sort of rotten joke and the only thing he gets for his efforts is a conciliatory pat on the knee from Louis. Zayn just glances at him, grins, and then leans closer to Harry to see what he's texting.)

 

* * *

 

He's woken up that night by a banging on the door. Immediately, his heart leaps to his throat.  
  
Something must be wrong. If it was one of the other boys, they'd just let themselves in -- the door beeps and clicks. Oh. He takes in a slow breath. His mum's probably fine, then.  
  
On the other bed, Zayn's shallow breathing thins even further. Liam squints in the darkness at the figure striding across the room. Too tall for Niall or Louis, too thin for Paul -- 'Harry?' he whispers. He clears his throat. 'What're you doing here?'  
  
Harry doesn't say anything, just climbs into Zayn's bed.  
  
Liam sends a text to his mum over the sound of Zayn and Harry's mingled breathing, doesn't fall back asleep for awhile even after she replies.

 

* * *

 

'Liam! Oi. _Liam._ '  
  
Liam stares up at the ceiling, dozily, not fully awake. Is God talking to him?  
  
\--Is God from Bradford?  
  
'Li-am,' says the voice, exasperated and Liam clears his eyes and realises it's Zayn talking. Oh. He rolls his eyes over to the side.  
  
6:13, says the bedside clock. Zayn's sitting up. Harry's headdown in his lap.  
  
'Yo. When'd this happen?' Zayn asks, looking sort of--pleased, if you looked at him right.  
  
Liam blinks himself more fully awake. He shrugs, not entirely certain how he feels about this new turn of events. Harry usually breaks into Louis's bed. Whenever Liam shares with Louis, more often than not he's awoken in the middle of the night by a cuddly Harry. 'He just barged in the room at, like, 3?  If that.'  
  
'Huh,' Zayn says, quietly, then twists his hands in Harry's hair. Harry makes a soft noise in his throat and opens his eyes. He blinks, clearly surprised to see Liam across from him.  
  
'--Hullo,' he rasps.  
  
'--Hullo,' Liam replies, cautiously.  
  
Harry tilts his head, 'What're you doing here, Liam?'  
  
Zayn starts cackling. Harry's eyes flick up to him, quick, a grin already forming on his lips.  
  
'Don't laugh at me, Mr B&E,' Harry murmurs. Zayn huffs out a laugh, watching Harry very closely as he leans up on his arms. Harry's grinning, kind of sly, like he does on club nights.  
  
Zayn's not leaning back. Why isn't he leaning back? It looks like they're about to--  
  
'Were you drunk last night?' Liam blurts. 'This is _our_ room.'  
  
Harry blinks at him, then glances at Zayn for confirmation. Zayn gives him a small smile and shrugs. Harry sits up properly -- Zayn, inexplicably, leans back on his elbows -- and rubs his head, looking a bit confused as he takes in the room.  
  
'No? I--I guess I must've sleepwalked,' he says, slowly. His eyes flick to Zayn, spread out before him, and stay there. _Huh_ , indeed.  
  
'Must've been tired,' Liam says, weakly, hoping it's just a weird one-off.

 

* * *

 

It's not.  
  
They hold hands in the hotel hallway and don't let go even when Niall raises his eyebrows at them. And Zayn, who doesn't usually let people touch him until he's got at least three energy shots in him, gives Harry a piggyback all the way from the lobby to the van, not faltering even once at the wave of screams that greet them. The two of them keep their heads close together for the entire drive, not caring how their whispering or stoner giggling is setting everyone else on edge.  
  
Louis, of course, gets horribly jealous and pokes and pinches and whinges at them both to try and get them to pay attention to him in the backseat. They poke and pinch and whinge back at him, otherwise ignoring him utterly.  
  
'Fucking wankers,' Louis grumbles, curling into Liam's side.  
  
'Replay, reverse,' Liam says, before Louis can throw a proper fit. Zayn's too busy laughing up at Harry to chime in like usual.  
  
'Wanking fuckers,' Louis says softly, and then scowls out the window for the rest of the ride.

 

* * *

 

After a while even Niall notices.  
  
'Jesus,' he says, during a break between interviews, when, as soon as the cameras are shut off, Zayn scrabbles up from beside Liam and into Harry's lap. Niall flicks Harry's knee (the one that's not wedged up between Zayn's legs) and laughingly shakes his head. 'Get a room, why don't ya.'  
  
Usually this would be when Harry would tackle Niall and try to maul him into recanting. Instead he just pulls Zayn back more firmly against him, like he's actually considering it, and says, in this absolutely ridiculous voice, 'Should we?'  
  
Liam laughs. Zayn doesn't.  
  
And that's when Louis gets really miffed. Liam has to follow him out of the room and assure him that Zayn and Harry are probably just messing around. 'They would've told us if they were actually--you know,' he says. And the more he thinks on it, the more absurd the idea sounds. Especially when Zayn had told him that one time, that if he were to ever hook up with anyone in the band, he'd.

Well, he'd said he'd choose Liam.  
  
Doesn't really matter, either way, does it, he thinks, dragging a sulking Louis back by his wrist. It's probably all just a game of sorts. Zayn and Harry have their weird games, don't they? Like in Australia. And in Atlanta. And--  
  
Liam stops short at the sight of the significantly emptier room. 'Where'd Zayn and Harry go?' he asks, letting go of Louis' wrist.  
  
One of the new PAs scurries away without making eye contact.  
  
'Uh,' says Niall, and his cheeks give the game away, if nothing else. 'To the bathroom?'  
  
Louis rolls his eyes and flops onto the couch, looking--relieved, almost. 'Well. Guess they'll be a while!'

 

* * *

 

They're not in the bathroom, actually. Paul checks, after an increasingly tense 15 minutes of avoiding eye contact with Lauren from Sugarscape. Liam leaves both of them message after message until their inboxes are full, _thank you and goodbye_.  
  
They end up driving back to the hotel and cancelling the photoshoot planned for the afternoon. Liam can't say he minds - he feels exhausted from all the worry (and from the actual exhaustion - he's not been sleeping very well). Niall and Louis invite Liam to wait in their room but he declines.  
  
He just wants--he just wants to sleep until he can swallow all these massively inconvenient feelings.  
  
Turns out that's not an option, because the telly's on in his room. And the telly's on in his room because his two bloody bandmates are watching _Antique Roadshow_. (More or less: Harry's eating an apple and scrolling through his mobile; Zayn's staring interrogatively at the ceiling.)  
  
'Oh, hey, Liam,' says Harry, casually. He's stretched out on Liam's bed, completely naked. That's not new. What's new is that Zayn looks like a rabid animal gnawed the hell out of his neck. Liam's pretty sure he's naked beneath his own covers.  
  
'Fuck,' he says, with feeling.  
  
'That was kinda the idea,' Zayn says, smiling uncomfortably at him. Harry laughs aloud. Zayn goes reddish. 'Not with--I meant, with Harry! And it's not like I wanted to.'  
  
'Heyyyy,' says Harry, lowly, looking up. 'You weren't exactly complaining before.'  
  
Liam flinches.  
  
'You know what I mean, mate,' Zayn says, and his voice shuts out Liam all over again. 'We couldn't exactly help it.'  
  
'Right,' says Liam briskly. They both look at him expectantly, completely clear-eyed. Ah. There's that silver bloody lining. 'You two should, uh. Get cleaned up. I'm going to--go get Paul.'

 

* * *

 

Zayn and Harry get chewed out for a little over an hour. Afterwards, they come into Louis and Niall's room, looking tired and slightly puppy-eyed. Liam squashes his first, second, and third instinct and doesn't hug either of them. Harry squeezes between Niall and Louis at the top of the bed and Zayn comes over and lays out beside Liam, at the foot.  
  
They all watch the telly in murky silence. Liam had felt sort of guilty for not telling the others what he'd seen. He needn't have bothered: a quick glance does all the work for him.  
  
He keeps his arms and legs firmly to himself and tells himself he's not upset. He's not, really, because it'd be stupid to be upset. Especially when he could've had it much worse. He could've just slept with one of his bandmates without really wanting to.  
  
What would that be like - not wanting? He wonders.  
  
In the meantime he tries to fend off Zayn. Every time an advert comes on, Zayn inches over bit by bit until finally Liam's so far on the other side of the bed he actually falls off.  
  
Niall laughs aloud, clearly relieved. Harry grins tiredly, nuzzling into Louis's neck. 'Lee-yum,' Zayn says, fondly, giving him a hand up. He's staring at him fully for the first time in two days. 'C'mere.'  
  
Liam takes his hand and doesn't let go.

 

* * *

 

'It was that muffin,' Louis declares at dinner, waving his fork around. To his left, Harry picks absently at his pasta, staring blankly ahead. Niall's poking at a dark red bruise on Zayn's collarbone. 'Cut it out,' Zayn mumbles, but doesn't make any move to stop him.  
  
Liam looks down at his plate. 'What was,' he says, roughly, not really seeing his salad. He knows he should eat or he'll feel sick later on but he just doesn't feel up to it.  
  
'You know! the, the raison d'etre behind this brief infatuation between Zayn and Harry,' clarifies Louis. 'They ate this weird muffin three days ago? Then they started acting weird two days ago?' He points his fork sharply at Liam. 'Highly coincidental, don't you think?'  
  
'What's a raisin detreh,' whispers Niall to Zayn.  
  
'Don't worry about it, I don't think he's using it right,' Zayn replies, grinning. Louis gracefully flicks a pea at him, misses, and hits Liam in the eye instead.  
  
'Ow,' says Liam, blinking rapidly.  
  
' _Lou_ -is,' Zayn chides, scooting closer to Liam. Everything's all blurry. 'You okay, Liam?'  
  
'I'm fine,' says Liam, because he is, really. 'You're the one who ate a poisonous muffin three days ago.'  
  
'And you're the one who's crying,' Harry says mildly. Liam sniffs, and wipes at his eyes, a bit embarrassed.   
  
'I'll get some ice,' Zayn sighs, and gets up to go to the kitchenette before Liam can stop him.  
  
'Thanks,' Liam mutters, though he doesn't think Zayn heard him over Niall and Louis squabbling over raisins. He dabs at his eyes with one of Zayn's several thousand extra napkins until he can see more clearly.  
  
It's only because he happens to look up that he notices Harry staring after Zayn. He's got that same figuring out face from two days ago.  
  
Huh.  
  
'Alright, Harry?' he asks, trying out a smile. Probably he's just imagining things.  
  
Harry lazily drags his eyes over to Liam. Stares right through him.  
  
'Never better,' he says, grinning, and his eyes follow Liam's.


End file.
